


the part where i see you

by writeyourheart



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Short & Sweet, goodbye scene (again smh), set during the supposed wild mall scene in season 3, someone stop these two from having to say goodbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourheart/pseuds/writeyourheart
Summary: “I hate this part the most,” he said. His finger moved above her lip, brushing blood off of her nose.She said nothing as the room turned dark, merely leaning her head into the hand that lingered against her cheek.She saw the shadows of his lips move. “The part where we have to say goodbye.”Set in the mall, during the last episode of season 3. El and Mike must seperate once again in order to save Hawkin's.





	the part where i see you

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil' concept i had for season 3 that i hope doesn't actually happe lmao

The neon lights above them flickered with aggressive intensity. The room was purple, luminous, vibrant — then suddenly, dark — shadowy silhouettes replaced the details interlaced in faces and bodies and clothing.

  
Purple, black, purple, black, purple, black.

  
When she saw purple, she saw him.

  
The lighting tainted him delicately; a violet hue that made him seem ethereal. His skin was lightly peppered with cuts and bruises she wished she could heal.  
His eyes were wide and bold. And afraid.

  
She’d seen those eyes reflect a million different emotions before, all of which she swore she memorized as easily as his name. She wished she didn’t recognize this look in his eyes. But she did. She’d seen it too many times; in painful memories, in haunting nightmares.

  
As she stepped forward, the lights in the abandoned mall flickered once more, and then there was blackness.  
When she saw darkness, she still saw him.

  
His long and lanky silhouette, a posture that emitted both fear and bravery. She’d seen him stand like this before, seen him shrink in size as she watched him from behind a car window, in the depths of a middle school classroom.

  
By the time she reached him, he was purple again. She was too. She could see it on her hands, on her clothes, in his eyes.

  
“I hate this part the most,” he said. His finger moved above her lip, brushing blood off of her nose.

  
She said nothing as the room turned dark, merely leaning her head into the hand that lingered against her cheek.

  
She saw the shadows of his lips move. “The part where we have to say goodbye.”

  
Purple. He wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore, instead gazing down at their entwined fingers. “Me too,” she says simply. Her own eyes drop to their hands, squinting towards the cuts that broken glass had left on their skin.

  
Darkness filled the room once more. She recognized the panicked voices behind her, but their urgency meant nothing. They soon, but not now. Not now. She moved her other hand to his own cheek, and she felt him lean in gratefully, a long, painful sigh escaping his mouth as if he’d been holding it in his entire life.

  
She stares up at him. Even in the darkness, she knows he’s looking back at her now, too.

  
“Do you know what my favourite part is?” Her voice was soft amidst the chaos; a gust of wind during a heatwave, an umbrella in the rain, a light within the darkness.

  
Purple. She sees unshed tears in his eyes. She wonders if he’ll let them fall. She knows he doesn’t want them to, but she knows that he knows that she’ll catch them if he does.

  
“What is it?” His voice is soft, too. Delicate and timid, as though the slightest drop would cause an infinite, sorrowful shattering.

  
The room goes dark. She still sees him. Beautiful, afraid, brave, angry. She sees him brightly, as if the sun had come to rest over him like a bold and determined spotlight.

  
She sees him. She always sees him. A small, sad smile tugs at his lips as she speaks.

  
“The part where I come back,” she promises. “The part where I see you.”


End file.
